


I Just Wanna Know What's On Your Mind

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: We Don't Believe What's On TV [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 800 words of nail yakupov being sad, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Trade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8312332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: Nail expects him to leave it at that – and then when Maggie kicks him in the shin, wonders why he expected that at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> an anon asked for someone to comfort this smol sad boy, and thisisahockeyblog suggested magnus paajarvi, then reblogged enough pictures that i adopted him as my son. so here it is.
> 
> i do not represent the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do i make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives.

“You okay?” Maggie asks, nudging Nail with his toe.

“Hmm?” Nail asks, looking up from his shoes, holding the laces tight.

“You okay?” Maggie repeats.  Nail shrugs and goes back to tying his shoes.

Nail expects him to leave it at that – and then when Maggie kicks him in the shin, wonders why he expected that at all.

“What?” Nail snaps, dropping his laces.

“You okay?” Maggie asks again.

“I’m _fine_.”

Maggie’s eyes narrow a little.

“ _What_?”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re fine.”

Nail can’t do this here, not in the room with some of the other guys still milling around.  But the thought of leaving – going outside and getting in his car and driving back to his empty apartment, half of his shit still in boxes because no one comes over anyway – is somehow worse.

“Come over for lunch,” Maggie says, shoving his hands in his pockets.  “I can drive you if you want.”

Nail wants to ask how his car would get home, how he’d get to practice the next morning – but he doesn’t care.  He doesn’t _care_.

And it’s easier to step outside of the rink, out into this city he knows no one in and nothing about, when he has Maggie next to him humming under his breath as he digs in his pocket for his car keys.

“I’ve only got chicken and broccoli,” Maggie tells him when they’re getting into the car.

“That’s fine.”

Maggie turns on the radio, and they don’t talk on the way to Maggie’s apartment.  Maggie sings, though, sometimes under his breath and sometimes at full volume, and bit by bit, Nail relaxes.

He stays relaxed as they get out of the car and go up to Maggie’s place, through the elevator ride and walking down the hall, and Maggie pulling everything out of the fridge to start cooking.

“I know how hard it is,” Maggie says, facing the stove with his back to Nail.  Nail, sitting at the counter, digs his fingers into his thigh.

“Sure,” Nail replies.

“I went through the same move as you.  _Am_ going through.  St. Louis is a lot different than Edmonton, and the both of them are different from Europe.”

“It’s not the same,” Nail says, keeping his eyes on Maggie’s back.  “You at least liked Edmonton.”

“Shouldn’t that have made it harder?” Maggie asks, turning to look at him for barely a second before he goes back to cooking.

Nail doesn’t have anything to say to that.  He doesn’t have the words to explain how difficult it is just to get out of bed and get to practice, to do anything other than sit around his apartment.  He doesn’t know how to say it.  He doesn’t know how to make Maggie understand.

“It’s not the same,” he says, a couple minutes later, after Maggie’s turned off the stove and slid the chicken and broccoli onto two plates.

“No,” Maggie agrees.  “It’s not.”

Nail accepts the plate Maggie hands him and digs in.

“It’s a lot,” Nail says, when his plate is half-empty.

“It is,” Maggie agrees.

They keep eating.

“I don’t know how to help it,” Nail finishes, as he puts his fork down on the empty plate.

“I do.”

Nail looks at him, then.  Maggie looks softer, not teasing like he usually is.  He looks like he understands, if not exactly how Nail feels, then enough that he could have an answer.

So Nail follows him back to Maggie’s bedroom, and lets Maggie push him onto his back in the middle of the bed.  Maggie follows him up, arranging Nail’s limbs on the bed until Maggie can curl around him and hold him.

“This’ll help?” Nail whispers, his face jammed into Maggie’s shoulder.

“It can,” Maggie tells him, his fingers combing through Nail’s hair.

Nail closes his eyes and sinks into Maggie’s warmth, relaxing in his arms in increments, as Maggie touches his hair and breathes steadily around him.

“You don’t have to go home to your empty apartment,” Maggie murmurs, bending his head closer to Nail’s.  “You can move in if you want.  Or you can come over when you need to.”

Nail can’t help the tears gathering in his eyes, but he tries to hide it when they start dripping down his cheeks.

“I know, Nail,” Maggie says, tightening his hold a little.  “It’s okay.”

And a couple hours later, after Nail’s fallen asleep and woken up again feeling more rested than he has in years, Maggie orders pizza for dinner.  They eat in the living room and watch tv, and Nail feels like he could actually enjoy this.

**Author's Note:**

> im trash i already want to make this a series i s2g @ myself STOP IT
> 
> join me in sin on tumblr @ somethingnerdythiswaycomes


End file.
